


when the land was godless and free

by whisperedwords



Series: an idiot's guide to maybe-sorta-kinda falling in love with your fellow outcast superheroes [3]
Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: (kind of), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Post-Episode: s01e10, Sadness, Sharing a Bed, except not really, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: Well, she loved Henry once, and look how that turned out.
Relationships: Beth Chapel/Yolanda Montez/Rick Tyler/Courtney Whitmore, Yolanda Montez/Rick Tyler
Series: an idiot's guide to maybe-sorta-kinda falling in love with your fellow outcast superheroes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819771
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	when the land was godless and free

**Author's Note:**

> 1X10 SPOILERS FOLKS!!!!
> 
> hourcat is such a good dynamic. it is SO good. no one is allowed to tell me i'm wrong. legally, i am 100% correct in all ways.
> 
> also, title from hozier's "foreigner's god".

Rick is the first person she sees after it happens.

The world falls out from under her the moment the ceiling collapses, the concrete loud and heavy as it hits the floor—hits Henry.

Oh, _god_. Henry.

Rick is solid as Yolanda collapses against him, burying her face in his costumed shoulder, and the sobs are too great to hold back. _Henry_.

The rest of the night comes and goes in blurs, really—Yolanda remembers leaving Cindy's house. She remembers how Courtney had kissed her head and apologized over and over and over again, she remembers the way Beth held her hand standing at the epicenter of the aftermath, but the only solid moments...are with Rick.

They’ve trailed behind Beth and Courtney on the way back to the garage, who are forging on to get back to Pat to tell him everything, which is valiant of them but god Yolanda cannot handle the thought of the future right now. A future without Henry. She hated him, she _hated_ him…Rick squeezes her shoulder once to pull her out of the downward spiral. Yolanda thinks that if he hadn't, she'd've exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. He’s good at just knowing when to do these things.

“You can stay with me tonight,” he murmurs as they make it close to the lit-up neon garage sign. Yolanda isn’t sure she wants to see the clothes she wore before this, isn’t sure she’s ready to pick up her things and head back home and try to explain to her angry parents why she’d been out so late. She slows to a stop.

Rick mirrors her. “If you want to,” he says after a beat. “I’m sure you want to be alone right now—”

“Yeah, I want to,” Yolanda interrupts. Rick just looks at her, confused. “Stay with you, I mean.” She claps a hand over her face and somehow, _somehow_ , finds it in her to laugh a little. “Sorry.”

Rick cracks a smile at her and leans over to bump her shoulder with his. “I figured. Otherwise that was a real mean way of telling me you don’t wanna be around me.”

They walk the rest of the way to the garage in silence, and as soon as they step under the lights, Courtney offers Yolanda something similar, as does Beth. Kind offers, loving offers, and she _loves_ them, it’s just…

Well, she loved Henry once, and look how that turned out.

Yolanda gathers her things, and she looks over to where the rest of the gang are standing. Rick is talking, and Courtney and Beth are nodding slowly. She watches as Beth takes Courtney’s hand and wishes she could indulge in the sweetness they usually bring to her, but it just comes up bitter in her throat. She’d be sick if there was anything in her stomach.

Rick nods at the two of them again and then walks over to where she’s standing, her backpack loosely hanging from her hand. “Want me to get that?” He asks.

Henry used to do that. “No,” she replies after a second of memory floods her vision. _No no no_. “No, I’m okay.”

Rick must see something is off, because he just nods once, the best kind of quiet, and extends a hand. Yolanda takes it gratefully.

"See you guys," he murmurs as the two of them walk past Stargirl and Doctor Midnite. (Court and Beth are still dressed—how can they still be wearing their suits? How are they not suffocating in them?) Yolanda doesn’t say anything, just looks at both of them and meets understanding, heartbroken gazes. She loves them but she doesn’t think she look at those looks right now. She can’t—not tonight. _Not tonight._

They walk over to Rick’s car in silence, but Rick decides to break it once they settle into the car. “Don’t worry about my uncle,” he says out of nowhere, voice raw. His eyes are red, Yolanda notices. She’d been under the distinct impression that Rick had most definitely not ever been a fan of Henry King Jr.’s—after all, hadn't he just called him an asshole that afternoon?

When he was still alive. _Jesus Christ_.

Yolanda chokes on a sob at the thought but manages to swallow it down, and Rick reaches over the gear shift to rest a warm, comforting hand on her knee. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. His other hand is resting on the steering wheel. “It’s okay.” _You don’t have to hold it back_. He withdraws his hand and starts the car.

Yolanda cries into her hands the entire drive to his house.

The night gets blurry again—she remembers Rick texting her parents for her, trying to make her smile through her tears, and she thinks he may have succeeded once. She remembers bits and pieces of taking a shower in his half-clean bathroom, scrubbing the dirt from the Dragon King’s lair off her arms and hands and legs.

She especially remembers seeing the folded-up t-shirt on the floor just outside the bathroom, and how Rick had smiled a little at her when she walked out in it.

“It was my dad’s,” he’d said. Yolanda had felt a little safer in it, somehow—she had wrapped her arms around herself and started walking towards the couch on the other side of Rick’s room.

“What? ‘landa, no.” Rick grabs her arm, the world around her suddenly clear. “No, not the couch. I’ll—I’ll sleep there. You take my bed.”

“Rick,” she says, trying desperately not to start crying again because he doesn’t need to be this nice to her, he _doesn’t_ —“Rick, it’s fine, I’ve slept on couches before.”

“Yolanda, I’m not letting you sleep on my couch. Come here.” He tugs her back towards the bed and she lets him, plops herself down so that she’s thigh-to-thigh with Hourman himself. (In the previous Hourman’s clothes. What a weird thing to think about.)

He’s warm. That’s the first observation of the night that doesn’t twist her stomach into knots. Rick is warm as he sits next to her, and she can’t help but lean into him, the only solid thing she can hang onto tonight. She feels Rick’s arm wrap around her and pull her closer, and the threat of tears prick at her eyes, but she doesn’t scoot away. As always, Rick somehow knows what she needs right now.

An anchor.

Yolanda sniffles. Rick doesn’t say anything—but really, she doesn’t think he needs to. Carefully, he scoots backwards onto his bed and Yolanda goes with him, her towel-wrapped hair falling wet onto her shoulder and making her cringe from the chill it brings. She doesn’t speak as he lies back on his pillow, doesn’t speak as she curls up in his side. She doesn’t speak when he uses his foot to slip the blanket up within grabbing reach.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly. He knows it is—he wouldn’t have done it in the first place if he hadn’t. Rick has kind of been her mirror this whole time, the physical manifestation of her inner rage; of course he knows it’s okay. Yolanda nods to answer his question, resting her head on his shoulder. Then, the question she knows he’s going to ask: “Are _you_ okay?”

The answer is obvious, so she doesn’t say anything, just tucks a little bit closer into his side. “They’re gonna withdraw him from classes,” she mumbles instead. She’s too tired to cry at this point—just numb. The thoughts in her head…are numb. Rick doesn’t say anything, though she feels his warm hand rest against the back of her head and then comb through her hair. A little clumsy, but it doesn’t matter to her. She ducks her head against him a little more and forces down every last memory of falling asleep with Henry. “They’re gonna withdraw him from classes and I’m gonna have to see his dumb friends in the hallway and know more than they ever will.”

There’s silence. Rick’s room is warm and dim, and somehow, it’s lulling Yolanda to sleep even in the chaotic, hectic state of her brain. She knows she’s not going to sleep well, or at all, really—but the warmth is nice.

“They probably will,” Rick says, voice wavery and still quiet. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just clears his throat. Yolanda tightens her hold on Rick. _He’d watched him die, too_. He didn’t have to be a goddamn hero. He could’ve just run away and stayed alive.

Yolanda doesn’t say anything else. She just lies beside Rick and breathes.

Neither of them sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> COME BE SAD WITH ME


End file.
